


In Sight

by SuiCausa



Series: Iron Bull's Rules [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Knight-Enchanter op, M/M, but iron bull beats templar, templar beats knight-enchanter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:39:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuiCausa/pseuds/SuiCausa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan is used to being nigh immortal on the battlefield, until an unexpected foe catches him off guard and leaves him wounded for his recklessness. Iron Bull doesn't react the way Lavellan expects him too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sight

**Author's Note:**

> I was working on the next chapter for Requisitioned when this silly little idea came to me and I decided to write it out. I might pursue this more later, but for now enjoy this silly little story where I actually manged to write something that didn't descend into porn.

He was used to instilling fear into the hearts of his enemies. The Inquisition’s army by itself was a force to be reckoned with, their enemies always cautious and careful when engaging them if they ever hoped to be victorious. However when their enemies realized that the small group charging towards them were far more dangerous than simple grunt soldiers, the fear in the air became almost palpable, an adrenaline rush like any other when they would scream “ _It’s the Inquisitor!”_ just as their front line was brutally, irreparably breached.Panic ensued, his reputation just as effective at terrifying the enemy as the fires that he pulled from the earth.

Dorian claimed he was the only one in their group that had any sense. He liked it when Sera or Varric accompanied them, just because he’d have someone to stand back with him and guard his flanks. Most of the time however, their little group consisted of Lavellan and Iron Bull charging in head first together, Bull crashing hard against the front line and downing it with brutal force, Lavellan teleporting _through_ the front line to cause absolute panic and mayhem as he exploded archers and fellow mages, his magic surrounding him in an impenetrable barrier that his foes couldn’t hope to crush.

Dorian playing mother hen, keeping everyone barriered while he waited for the first body to fall, and then _his_ magic shone, turning the bodies of enemies against each other, adding a little extra _terror_ so that there wasn’t a soul in the group of enemies that didn’t die while screaming. Finally Cole, dancing in and out of existence as he stabbed deadly little daggers into fleshy openings, no one even knowing there was someone else amongst them until it was far too late to save themselves.

Their enemies were simply outclassed. Sure they sustained injuries, but with the flash of healing mist grenades, abundance of little broken bottles of health potions and the constant song of the rejuvenation potions that Bull carried, knitting wounds back together just by being close, the average enemy troop did not last long against them.

 _Dragons_ were a different story altogether. Even bears and other creatures were a dangerous foe, but when Lavellan saw a group of mere men he gripped his staff a little tighter, summoned his spirit sword and used pure magic to propel him straight towards them without a second thought, something akin to glee rushing through his veins.

One day, that fearlessness caught up to him.

The front line was strong, feisty. Iron Bull fought with several men with shields who had the qunari on his toes, Cole dancing around the fray and helping where he could, Dorian’s magic left in a support role as he waited for the first body to fall. Lavellan had taken the back lines by storm as always, teleported through and began by introducing an archer to his spirit sword. The man screamed when the arm holding his bow was separated from his body, fled behind a wagon and cowered there. Lavellan snorted as he rounded the corner to find him kneeling while hugging the bleeding stub of his arm. Spirit sword made quick work of that.

He heard footfalls behind him and turned to face an armored soldier. He didn’t expect much, disregarding the sword and shield because unlike Iron Bull’s giant axe, his spirit sword cut through armor with impunity. He grinned as he cloaked himself in the fade, ceasing to exist on any plane where he could be harmed. Lunging forward he fully intended to attempt to share armor with the man and see how his foe’s body responded to _that_ development.

The last thing he expected was the sudden lurch of his entire world being turned upside down, being physically ripped from the fade and dropped back into reality with the air sucked out of his lungs. He staggered, caught completely off guard, and didn’t see the strike coming when the  soldier bashed him with his shield and sent his slender elven body crashing into the side of the wooden cart.

His barrier was gone leaving him feeling naked and vulnerable with far too little armor, when he tried to lift his spirit sword he found it non existent, unable to summon the magic to bring it to reality. Fucker was smirking at him as he advanced. “Hello, Inquisitor. My employer said to expect to meet you like this.” The man said conversationally before he lunged.

The stupid wagon separated him from the others. His magic cut off he couldn’t teleport through it to safety. He thought fast enough to draw his staff up over his head to block the blow that would have otherwise destroyed him, but the wood creaked in his hands as the man overpowered him and shoved him backwards. Dorian was far better at using his staff in melee, Lavellan found himself unable to overpower his foes with physical strength.

Red templars were so corrupted they forgot what it was like before the red song took over, forgot what it meant to suppress magic and use their powers. This man was no such abomination, he was using his control over the magic in the area with no fault, he was skilled, at full power and somehow an enemy.

Lavellan blocked again but this time the templar expected it, countered immediately with a strike to Lavellan’s side that he was unable to protect in time. He screamed when he felt the sword slice down through the thin armor he wore, felt it cut through muscle straight into bone, only coming to a stop when it chipped deep into his hip. The pain was white, knew he was still screaming and couldn’t find it in himself to stop as he felt the blade twist, breaking apart the socket of his hip. He couldn’t flee but he didn’t want to, however he so completely unable to summon the magic he wanted to burn this templar’s face off with. _I’m going to die._

“Little mage should have stayed in your forest if you don’t know how to _fight._ ” The templar spat as he pulled his sword free with another cruel twist, leaving Lavellan to fall to his knees as he tried to overcome the pain, tried to keep a grip on his staff to counter the killing blow that was certainly going to come.

It didn’t. “Inquisitor!” He heard Cole’s soft voice at the same time the Templar did and all at once Cole appeared next to him, grabbed hold of him tightly and then _slip!_ they were slipping past the Templar’s suppression, cloaked in the shadows that wasn’t quite magic enough to be what the Templar’s power was dispelling. Around the wagon, back to the front lines, towards a very angry looking Iron Bull who was currently beheading a man for preventing him from getting to the Inquisitor that had screamed. Couldn’t stay in the fade with Cole long, _too bright_ the boy had explained. Like trying to bonfire in the shadows.

When they reappeared he could see the expressions flash across the qunari’s face as he collapsed to the ground in front of him, relief that he was safe, concern at all the blood coating his side and then something far more primal, violent. Absolute outrage as the Templar rounded the corner of the wagon chasing after them.

Still suppressed, Lavellan allowed Cole to pull him farther away while the qunari charged the templar. The man was a skilled fighter Lavellan was sure, but he was no match for an angry qunari with a very personal grudge. The elf watched with a certain amount of reverence as Iron Bull charged with a force that couldn’t be blocked by any shield, throwing the man to the ground and once he was down, there was very little defence against the qunari who was ready to rip him apart with his bare hands.

A potion was brought to his lips by a worried Cole and he swallowed it quickly, groaning in agony as he felt it almost immediately start to sink into that wound in his hip. Stopped the bleeding at least, though maker’s mercy it hurt as the broken bone throbbed under the magic. Wound was bad, he’d need more than just health potions for this one.

There was a loud explosion as magic was suddenly freed around them as Iron Bull’s greataxe separated head from shoulders, Dorian rushing forward now to aide Cole. Iron Bull turned to walk towards them as he surveyed the area to make sure everything was clear. His face was back to total control but Lavellan knew that there was a great deal of emotion churning within the qunari right now, the blind rage and panic that he’d seen unable to be easily forgotten.

Dorian barked instructions and practically shoved Lavellan back down when the elf tried to crawl to his feet, the Tevinter’s hands finding the wound and pouring magic into it that would at least keep it sealed until Skyhold’s proper healers could look at it. “You aren’t going to be walking around with your hip wrecked like that. You need to start wearing proper armor if you’re going to keep insisting on charging into the fight.” The man chided as he worked.

“Slows me down.” Lavellan grunted, gritting his teeth hard when Cole began to help wipe the blood away from the wound, checking it physically now that the magic had done it’s job. _That_ hurt.

“He sounded like the old songs, I didn’t think he was one of _them._ ” Cole said softly as he worked.

Iron Bull stood above them, watching them work on the elf with gritted teeth, restraining any action he was apparently desperate to do as he let those more experienced work. “Any rogue templars needing a lyrium fix could be hired by anybody. Give them lyrium and send them to off the Inquisitor, who will no doubt charge head first into their trap.”

Anger. It only took a moment to realize that it was directed at him. “You’re mad at _me_? How was I supposed to know they had a pet templar laying in wait?”

“If you had stayed with your front line you wouldn’t have nearly gotten yourself killed. It’s one thing to stay up with me, but if you go out of reach and I can’t protect you, shit like this happens. _You know better._ ”

Right in front of everyone he was getting dressed down for being an idiot. Lavellan’s face burned with embarrassment as he looked down, deciding to focus on the blood all over his leg and boot instead because somehow that was more appealing. Iron Bull practically growled when the elf refused to say anything or look up, the qunari storming away to stand watch instead. Despite how furious he seemed, the tal-vashoth was not going to make a scene in front of others.

No doubt the next time they were in private he was going to get something that made that little chastisement seem cuddly. Dorian’s face was grim as he tutted and pressed a bandage across Lavellan’s skin, Cole helping him anchor it around Lavellan’s waist. “He was scared when you screamed.” Cole said quietly, and when Lavellan looked at him whatever the spirit was thinking of adding to that line stopped. “It will be okay.” He said instead.

“Thanks, Cole.” Lavellan said with a grim little smile, before he allowed Dorian to loop one of his arms around the taller Tevinter’s shoulder. “Ooh, this is going to hurt.” He groaned.

Dorian laughed a bit, agreed with a “Yes, yes it is.” Before he hauled the Inquisitor to his feet, completely supporting the weight of one side as Lavellan couldn’t really move one leg. “We’ll scrap the mission for today, back to camp you go.” The tevinter said mildly, but there was a strain to his voice that made the elf realize that even Dorian was worried about him.

Gods, now he was going to get a lecture on how a good mage hung back for a reason and letting the warriors go first was the best way to go. He was never going to hear the end of this.

The healers at camp had looked at how badly the bone of his hip had been severed and broken and ordered he be returned to Skyhold immediately. Lavellan’s mood could not have gotten darker, because rooting the Freemen of the Dales out of the Emerald Graves and Exalted Plains had been a excursion that had been planned for nearly a month. He felt foul and snappy and wanted to lash out, but managed to maintain a polite and cheerful facade when his comrades asked after his injuries and health.

 _Just a bit of pain_ , he’d say. Like his hip socket hadn’t been split open by a blade thicker than any of his bones. _Healers will have me fit as rain soon._ Like the trip back to Skyhold wasn’t absolute agony and and every day the bone went without being properly healed wasn’t going to make recovery that much harder. _Should have been a little more careful._ Like he wasn’t second guessing his abilities and his companions weren’t treating him like he was made of glass when before he’d been their unstoppable, fearless commander.

Bonus points that Iron Bull was treating him in a way that made Lavellan want to scream and punch him. Treating him like glass like all the other’s but _worse_ , treating him like everything was okay and wasn’t his fault. He’d expected the man to criticize and yell at him for fucking up the first time they had been out of the prying eyes of their companions. Instead the qunari had wrapped him up tight in arms and held him close. When Lavellan had shifted and squirmed and tried to start something, the qunari had simply bit down on his neck to hold him in place as a big hand carefully slid into his pants to stroke him with utmost care for his aching hip, pinning him in place so he couldn’t move in a way that’d harm himself further.

Sure it was a great revelation that excruciating hip pain did nothing to stall his libido when the qunari’s hand tightened around his dick, but it wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d wanted the qunari to be angry with him and instead Iron Bull had been nothing but affectionate. _He was scared when you screamed._ He gnawed at his lip while he scowled at the scenery around him as the wagon carried him back to Skyhold. He’d rather the qunari yell at him for fucking up then nuzzle his hair and apologize for raising his voice. He didn’t want to be treated like some delicate flower now instead of the knight-enchanter he was. He couldn’t even yell at the qunari for it because most times when he built up the frustration enough they were surrounded by people. Whenever they were alone, the qunari’s hands on him would immedietly difuse any fight he had. _Argh!_

Days he simmered like that. When they arrived in Skyhold he was immediately brought to his quarters where he was tended by healers that began the process of knitting bone back together. Lavellan had thought it couldn’t hurt worse, they proved him very wrong.

Cullen was investigating the templar they had faced, trying to find out who he was and who had hired him so they could prevent it from happening again. Most Templars had been lost to Corypheus as the Red Templars, if there were still templars out there it was best to get them into the Inquisition than have them recruited as mercenaries by their enemies. Lavellan nodded and agreed with the ex-templar that it was high priority, before breathing a sigh of relief when he was able to just lay back and wallow in his agony.

When Iron Bull came to visit him Lavellan was grumpy from being ordered not to leave his bed for a couple of days. Magic was regrowing the bone and it could not be disturbed, they said. They had been forced to threaten him multiple times before they were satisfied with his assurance he wouldn’t move. Apparently, he wasn’t a good patient. When Iron Bull asked how he was doing, Lavellan informed him as such.

“Well there’s a bloody surprise.” Iron Bull snorted, pulling a chair up to the side of the bed Lavellan was tucked into before reaching out to push Lavellan’s hair back so he could grin at him. “Any contraband you want me to sneak up here to make the days go by?”

“You could just fuck me in new and creative ways to keep me occupied.” Lavellan suggested with considerable amount of hope in his voice, only to have it crushed when the qunari laughed and shook his head.

“Pretty sure if they don’t want your hips disturbed, fucking you is off the table. Can still do other things if you can keep this room clear for a few minutes.” Ironically there was a knock on the door shortly after, a servant coming in to pick up old linen and bandages and exchange them for clean. She stopped to give the two of them a suspicious once over, leaving no doubt that she was reporting back to the healers at just how well behaved the Inquisitor was being. Lavellan gave Bull a very heartfelt _Please, save me_ look.

The qunari laughed again. “Bet if you had a shot at that Templar right about now he’d be feeling twice the hurt you are.”

“Fuck that guy.” Lavellan huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “He was a real asshole.”

“Yeah, bet you think that about all Templars trying to stab you.” Iron Bull sniggered while tucking some dark hair behind Lavellan’s ear.

“He was just an asshole.” Lavellan argued, still huffing. “He told me I should have stayed in the forest if I didn’t know how to fight.”

Iron Bull paused to brush knuckles across the soft skin of Lavellan’s neck. “Did he now? Guess he was just an asshole.”

After a long silence, Lavellan finally sighed. “You _were_ right you know. I shouldn’t have gone off on my own like that.”

“Forget about it, Kadan. You didn’t know. We’re a team and we work together, and sometimes mistakes happen. You’re okay, that’s all that matters.” Stupid qunari, being so kind and understanding. “We’ll just be more careful, right?”

“Right.” Lavellan sighed, tilting his head to the side and giving Iron Bull a stern gaze. “If I was one of your Chargers, you wouldn’t be so nice about this.” He accused with a little scowl.

“You’re right.” Iron Bull said with a bit of a grin pulling at his face as he examined his fingernails, deciding they were about due for a trim before they turned into claws again. “I’m always way too soft on you elves. Better buck up there scrawny, or else I’ll be riding your ass.”

Lavellan laughed, couldn’t help it. Laughed even though that somehow pulled on his hip and made him see stars. Yes, the qunari was going easy on him not because he was his lover, the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste or any of those things -- it was because he was a scrawny elf. When he turned his head to look back at the qunari his giggles settling down, he was overwhelmed with affection for the man. “Threatening me with a good time? I’ll never learn like that.” He smiled.

Iron Bull shrugged before mussing with Lavellan’s hair, his hands still so light and careful. There was something open in his expression though, something Lavellan finally saw after missing it all this time. Understanding began to dawn and yet again he felt like he was playing catch up when it came to understanding the qunari. Just for once he’d like to feel like he was one step ahead.

“It’s not that you think I’m weak all of a sudden. You’re not babying me because you think I’m some delicate mage who can’t take a hit.”

The look Iron Bull gave him was priceless, his eye widened into a bewildered _What the fuck gave you that idea?_ look. Lavellan wanted to pat himself on the back when the qunari echoed his thoughts perfectly. “What the _fuck_ gave you that idea?”

“Hey, give me a break. I’ve been grumpy and high on unknown herb mixtures and you were acting weird. I just figured it all out though, it’s okay.”

“Oh, this ought to be good.” Iron Bull said, leaning back in his chair and propping a booted foot up on the side of the bed. “What did you figure out, exactly?”

“How many people have died around you that were too far out of reach to save?” Iron Bull was damn good at hiding his responses, but there was a little tightening in his jaw that told Lavellan he had hit the mark. The man remained absolutely silent in response, clearly unwilling to answer that question and Lavellan didn’t blame him. “Low blow, don’t have to answer that. Sorry.” Iron Bull continued to be silent, but some of the tension drained out of him and Lavellan offered a shy little smile.

“See, the problem is you’re not blaming me, you’re blaming yourself. You were mad at first and you called me on my fuck up and I expected that. Then you get all nice and soft and snuggly and I realize now you’re tiptoeing because you blame _yourself._ You say “We’ll be more careful” but what you mean is “I’m going to rage at myself internally for not protecting you” even though you were doing your job dismantling a front line while I was the one teleporting after archers like an idiot nearly getting myself killed.”

“I’m not…”

“I’m pretty sure I should get some kind of fuckin’ medal if you break your own rule about lying.” Lavellan challenged with his arms crossed over his chest, a dark eyebrow rising up on his forehead just daring the qunari to continue. To his credit, Iron Bull was doing a damn good job looking unconcerned.

“Never have my rules said that _I_ can’t lie to _you._ ” The qunari challenged back, giving Lavellan a smug sort of look that reeked of defensiveness. Lavellan’s knowing little stare bore harder into the tal-vashoth and the qunari eventually let out a frustrated growl, huffing air out of his lungs as he leaned forward. “Just what are you getting at, little elf.”

“You’re not denying it.” Lavellan pointed out, and the qunari growled a second time. Gods if he wasn’t cripple at the moment he’d be busy crawling up the qunari’s body during a conversation that sparked reaction’s like this. Far better to get Iron Bull growly and huffy while pressed tightly into his lap. Better yet if they were naked and a great deal of oil was involved..

“Because you’re right, maybe. I don’t know. I almost lost you and I’d rather not waste time being pissed at you. I _know_ that I need to do more than just keep your sexy little ass in one piece out there. I know I was doing everything right. You shouldn’t have chased after someone who was fleeing anyway because there were other threats on the field that should have taken priority. That templar wouldn’t have caught you off guard if you’d stayed out from behind that fucking wagon, Cole would have been on him in a second and pinned him till I got there. I know all of this, but...You were out of my sight and got hurt, and if someone _else_ hadn’t of been there you would have died. How can I not be angry at myself?”

“You’re freaking out ‘cuz you love me and some asshole almost took me away from you.”

Iron Bull frowned, clearly distressed now and looking like he wanted to get up and leave more than face this particular conversation. He’d probably have just pinned Lavellan into the bed and changed the subject forcibly if the elf wasn’t incapable of that at the moment. “Yeah? Is that so surprising? Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?”

Lavellan grinned then, his smile ear to ear and his eyes lighting up. Like all the grumpiness was no longer there and he was _happy_ for the first time in days even though he was bedridden and thoroughly disabled from doing all the things to this qunari that he wanted to do. “I just like hearing you say it. Like seeing how much you care, that’s all.”

Iron Bull groaned, a frustrated noise as his feet hit the floor and he leaned over the bed again, putting a hand on Lavellan’s cheek and kissing him. It was a heated, horrible thing because it woke up Lavellan’s libido and made him want to thrust his hips out and squirm around and Andruil’s ass that hurt just thinking about it.

“If you start putting yourself in harms way just to see me fret…” Iron Bull threatened as he pulled away from the kiss, his nose touching Lavellan’s as he fixed him with a very serious gaze of his eye.

“I’d never do that.” Lavellan said, reaching a hand up to rub across the back of Iron Bull’s neck, still smiling happily. “I fully intend to not get caught like that again.”

“Good.” Iron Bull groaned before stealing another hard kiss, tongue invading the fleshy parts of Lavellan’s mouth leaving lips glistening and swollen and looking like they were made for sin. “Only man I want to hear you scream for is _me._ ”

Lavellan flushed up to his ears, rubbing his cheek happily against Iron Bull’s stubbled one and smirking at the scratchy feeling of it against his skin. “Bet you’ll be happy to know the healer’s said there won’t be a scar. Flesh wound was taken care of right away. An asshole Templar doesn’t get to leave his mark on me and you got _Dorian_ to thank for that.”

“He’ll never let me live that down.” Iron Bull grinned, fingers chasing the fall of dark hair to Lavellan’s chest, tracing collar bones and the rise of tendons in an exposed throat. “Gonna have to get him some of that fancy tevinter wine that costs an arm and a leg to thank him.”

Lavellan smiled as he relaxed into Iron Bull’s touch, enjoying the feel of big hands on him as they left collar bones to rub across nipples, teasing them into pert little nubs that the qunari happy rolled under the pads of his thumbs. “So I’ll stop acting like some indestructible elven god of destruction while on the battlefield, stay in sight of you. We work better closer together anyways.”

“That’s a good plan, Kadan.” Iron Bull agreed, rewarding Lavellan by pinching his nipples lightly between thumb and forefinger, rolling them just slightly as he pulled them out from his chest, pinching a little harder after a moment to get a good gasp from Lavellan. There was a tent forming in the blanket over Lavellan’s lap and the elf was really struggling to keep his hips still.

“I want you to train me, run me through drills like you do Krem. I need to learn warrior shit if I’m going to fight like one.”

Iron Bull paused at this, glancing between Lavellan’s face and the pert little nipples that were still pinched in his fingers, quirking an eyebrow and smirking before he twisted them just enough to make Lavellan’s attempt at being serious and earnest crumble as he moaned loudly and leaned into those hands, parting his lips to seek out another kiss.

Releasing the tender little nubs and flicking them lightly Iron Bull obliged Lavellan’s seeking mouth, bit at lips and suckled his tongue sweetly. The qunari smiled into the kiss as he dropped a big hand ever so carefully to Lavellan’s lap, fingers tickling at the place where his cock jutted up from blankets, begging attention. The elf’s whole body shivered and he moaned in half excitement half pain. Must have tried to flex his hips again, poor bastard.

“You realize I’m probably not the best choice for a novice. Lot different to hurt for me in bed then hurting for me out _there._ ”

Maybe there was something more to that he should be concerned about. The roles they danced around constantly, the power exchange. Like maybe giving Iron Bull more authority over him outside the bedroom was something he should be wary of. After all, what might people say? Lavellan smirked at how little he was bothered by that as he reached up to rub his cool little fingertips over his nipples that were hot and puffy, admiring how they ached when he pressed on them a little. Something that Iron Bull definitely noticed judging by the indulgent smirk pulling at his lips.

“Getting my ass kicked by some jerk barking orders at me? Yeah, I’d rather it be you. Less likely to murder you at least.” He said with a laugh before it trailed off into a happy sigh. “I just want to be able to defend myself effectively. Use a sword that’s not made of magic. You know I considered carrying one before? Figured that if I was using a sword all the time that was made of magic, what would be so different about a real one?”

Iron Bull barked a laugh, the hand that was lightly teasing Lavellan’s length stilling then. “Andraste’s tits, when was this? How did I miss it?”

“You didn’t...I figured out while I was fighting later that I’d behead myself in minutes. My spirit sword passes right through me no problem, I’ve sliced through my own arm with it more times than I can count swinging it around.” Iron Bull was laughing, a hand to the side of his face as he chuckled and Lavellan smiled. “Besides, after talking to Solas about old elven mages called Arcane Warriors a while back, I decided to stop at Underhold to test out some of the equipment they used to use. Seemed like something really great to pursue, right? Reliving some ancient part of my people’s history, honoring their memory in a way that makes a lot more sense to me then hiding in the forest from shems and bragging about how big the wolf we killed the other day was.”

Iron Bull’s face was growing soft as he listened to Lavellan talk. He saw within the elf the same type of crisis of faith that had afflicted him -- someone who _liked_ the way of life they had but still knew they would never be able to go back to it. Somewhere along the lines they had both become okay with that, both of them picking up the pieces they could and moving on together, finding a new way. A little smile for his elf, a kiss to the delicate markings on Lavellan’s forehead and a pat to his stomach with the hand that had lifted from it’s teasing, showing mercy so that the elf could talk. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“Well, I thought so too, right? So did Dagna, holy shit.” Lavellan added, giving a strained sort of look. “She’s got schematics for armor made of enchanted metals that would actually _enhance_ my magic instead of hindering it. Armor that would actually work together with my barriers, right? Infusing the armor and _sticking_ instead of fading away like barriers do. Weapons that would channel magic better than any staff, it’s all really incredible shit.”

“And...there’s a really good reason for you not letting that talented little dwarf set you up in all this, right?”

“Yeah…” Lavellan blushed a little then. “I lifted up the breastplate and realized there’s no fucking way I could run around with that hanging on me all day. The sword was way too fucking heavy, too.” He admitted with clear distress. “And it was a _little_ one. I tried swinging a big one like you use and just gave up. I feel like I’m in shape but there’s just no way I could do it and not be collapsing of exhaustion within minutes.”

Iron Bull was really trying hard not to chuckle, he could tell. The man was biting his lower lip in uncharacteristic restraint, shoulders shaking just slightly as he suppressed his amusement.

“Oh, laugh it up you fucking qunari! You’ve been swinging that shit around since you were knee high to a halla!”

Lavellan was ruffled enough to try and protest when Iron Bull dipped his head to kiss him, though those attempts died rather rapidly when the qunari nipped at his lower lip, moaning loudly into the kiss when Iron Bull rubbed a couple of fingers carefully across his crotch causing his ever hopeful cock springing back up again under the attention.

“You’re just a mage is all. We can still fix you.” Iron Bull said with a little grin. “You’re always running around, way too much cardio burns up all your fuel intake. You need to eat more and start weight training. Start wearing some greaves and gauntlets to start, just some extra weight. You’ll have to start eating a ridiculous amount of food, meats and heavy stuff not that rabbit shit you’re always nibbling on. Drag your ass out of Dorian’s library to come train with me and Krem and we’ll get those lean little muscles bulked up in a real hurry.” He assured the elf, smoothing a hand down one of Lavellan’s arms, giving it a mock critical gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Probably. I can’t say I’ve really met a bulky elf before. Your people just seem to get...harder.”

“You sound sad about that, you like me all soft and scrawny?”

“You have no idea how much the idea of you beefed up a bit turns me on, Kadan.” Iron Bull assured him, a heavy hand tangling in Lavellan’s hair and tilting his head back. “But I love the way I can dig my fingers into your ass when I’m pounding it.”

Lavellan’s cock jumped under Iron Bull’s hand, the elf letting out a soft little sound that made the qunari’s breath hitch. “I’m sure a little more resistance in my muscles wouldn’t ruin that.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t. How long did the healer’s say you couldn’t move your hips for? Fuck I want your legs wrapped around me right now.”

Lavellan felt those frustrations too, knew from the pain that was starting to settle into his hip that he was tensing it way too much every time his dick jumped and yet he wanted to say fuck it and pull the qunari down ontop of him anyways. The pleasure would be worth the agony, and he could just order the healers to re-set it afterwards and say he fell trying to get to the water closet without assistance. “Two days. I’m going to die.” He said with a dramatic sigh. “They’re growing the bone in days when it’s supposed to take months. Apparently if I move around during this crucial period it’ll grow wrong and I’ll have a permanent limp or something.”

“ _Fuck._ ” Iron Bull said loudly while lifting his hand away from where he’d been teasing Lavellan’s length, guilt clear. “Why didn’t you say that--”

“I’m fine, Iron Bull.” Lavellan said lightly, shaking his head. “If you were gonna make me start writhing around I would have used my watchword, remember?”

More guilt then, a different kind altogether and Iron Bull let out a frustrated noise. “You’re not allowed to get hurt like this again. I’m no good at this shit.” The qunari admitted and Lavellan gave a soft little smile and touched the qunari’s jaw to bring him down for another kiss.

When they parted, the elf gave Iron Bull a sultry little look that invited all kinds of suggestive thoughts into the qunari’s mind. “ _I_ have some ideas on a bunch of dirty things _I_ can do to _you_ while we wait. Wanna hear?”

Silly elf, asking questions to which he already knew the answer.


End file.
